


A Kiss For Every Scar

by Softlight



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Innuendos are fun, Laurent is happy!, M/M, Nudity, for once, it's so gay, laurent gives damen a massage, this is exactly what it sounds like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softlight/pseuds/Softlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent gives Damen a massage to thank him for everything.  It does not go as planned, but perhaps it's for the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss For Every Scar

“Stop moving around so much, you’re going to mess up the towels,” he hissed, lighting the last of the candles in the room.  Damen laughed, the booming echoing throughout their shared bedchamber as he sat up.

“The whole point of doing this is to relax, and moving around, to me, is very relaxing,” Damen said with a slight smile on his annoyingly handsome face.  

“Your moving is disrupting my massaging you, and if you want me to do this, then you’ll stop,” he retorted crossly, staring his husband down with his well-practiced death stare.  Damen simply smiled, tousling Laurent’s hair even as he jerked away.  

“I’ll stop, but you’re the one who wanted to do this in the first place.  But I’m still very,  _ very  _ appreciative,” he replied, briefly holding Laurent’s hand in his own before letting go and turning onto his stomach.  Ignoring the flush that burned his cheeks, he picked up the laurel massage oil, poured a generous amount in his hands, and began slowly massaging his husband.

Laurent started with his feet, gently rubbing and massaging the balls of his feet.  He ground his thumbs into the arches of his husband’s rather large feet, thoroughly rubbing into his flesh.  Laurent took his time there before moving further up Damen’s legs, gently running his slick hands up and down the toned calves.  

He began lightly stroking and gradually moved into full-blown kneading as the massage went on.  His fingers moved with purpose as they traversed Damen’s body, smirking when Damen let out a low moan from his ministrations.

Laurent slowly climbed upwards, circling around his knees and barely keeping his laughter to himself when Damen shot straight up in the air after he first touched the back of his knees.  Laurent began slowly kneading and working up his thighs, squeezing and releasing in slow bursts.

“Are you gonna touch my butt?” his muffled voice asked, to which Laurent laughed nervously.

“Do you want me to touch your butt?”

“I want you to touch me everywhere, all the time, but it’s whatever you’re comfortable with.  It feels great.”  Laurent smiled, gently rubbing at his glutes.  He treated them the same way he treated Damen’s thighs, albeit in a more circular fashion.  His entire face was bright red, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, but Damen couldn’t stop groaning, and  _ that _ made the embarrassment worth it.

When his hands started upwards, Damen immediately stiffened.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a furrow in his brow.

“Fine.”  But Damen’s voice was tight, and his entire body was rigid.  And then it clicked.

All Laurent could do was stare mutely at his husband’s back, or the mess of it that was left.

There was no clean skin, but rather rough scar tissue, deeply carved lines in his lover’s back.  From his hips to his shoulders, there were scars; some running that entire length, others not much longer than his hand.  He had seen his back several times, touched it practically every day, but every time it killed him to look at.

The guilt would never disappear, not truly.  The scars would never go away, and Laurent would have to stare his biggest regret in the face for the rest of his life.  Damen hadn’t seemed bothered by it in a long time, but his back occasionally pained him.  He never mentioned it, but Laurent could see it in the way he moved.

Laurent took a deep, steadying breath.  Now was the time for healing, for relaxation, for  _ loving _ .  Guilt had no place there.

Laurent placed a towel over Damen’s butt before gently straddling his husband.  “Needed to get into a better position,” he explained quietly.  Damen merely grunted in response, but let him climb up.

Once situated, he gently bent down, laying a trail of soft kisses up the length of Damen’s spine until he reached his neck.  “I’ll take good care of you.  Just relax, and let me love you for once.”  Damen snorted, but the majority of the tension peeled away from his body.  

Laurent slowly poured some more of the laurel oil onto his hands, relishing in the slickness.  He was relatively sure his face was going to burst into flames any moment, but it felt  _ good _ to love Damen properly; to give him the same attention he always received.

Laurent absolutely worshiped his body, silently swearing his lifelong devotion to the man below him.  Laurent pushed and pulled, kneaded and released, and rubbed all over his back.  Not a single inch escaped his notice, no spot too insignificant to give pleasure to.  He applied more pressure when he felt it was needed, and was unbelievably satisfied when Damen groaned out from underneath him.  

He traced over every scar, let his fingers trail over their full lengths, rediscovering every single one in a new way.  He  kissed them gently, each time prompting shivers from Damen, which turned his kisses to smiles.  Laurent strongly rubbed his husband’s shoulders, giving them his full attention as he pressed his fingers into the tense muscles.

Laurent let his hands flutter up and down Damen’s spine, pausing every once in awhile to press deeply before releasing.  He stretched and kneaded the areas where he felt particularly tense, feeling the stress melt away from underneath his fingers.  He applied more oil until his back shone with the light of diamonds, until the rough scar tissue felt smooth and adored.

By the time he reached Damen’s neck, his husband was practically goo in his hands.  

“I love you, Damianos.  Nothing will change that, or take you away from me,” he whispered into his husband’s ear before posturing up to continue massaging his neck.

He slid off Damen to slowly his arms, carefully working his way down to his hands, at which point half the massage consisted of Laurent holding and gently kissing Damen’s hands.  He treated his body with utmost respect, carefully caring for it as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

And perhaps Damen was.

“Flip over, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said softly, patiently waiting.  Damen turned, allowing Laurent to see his face.  “Thank you.”

He planted a gentle kiss on his lips before continuing.  Laurent dug his fingers into Damen’s hair, rubbing the top of his head and thickly twisting and pulling at his luscious hair.  He slowly brought his hands around to his husband’s ears, playfully tugging at his ear lobes before swooping his hands back to the place where his head became the top of his neck and gently pressing his fingers into the very spot.

Laurent carefully massaged Damen’s jaw, watching as Damen couldn’t help the smile on his face.  He let his fingers trail upwards towards his forehead, gently massaging his temples with constant pressure.

And with another kiss, the massage ended, and Damen opened his eyes.

“Where did you learn all of that?” Damen asked, slowly moving to sit up from the table Laurent had set up earlier in the day.

Laurent only smirked.  “I have my ways.  Just know that whatever I may or may not have done to learn this, was so worth it.”  Damen snatched Laurent off his feet and pulled him into his lap with booming laughter and a tight squeeze.

“It was  _ spectacular _ , and I am the luckiest man alive.”  He started pressing kisses into Laurent’s neck, ignoring his meek protests.  His fingers trailed through Laurent’s hair, pulling gently at his locks.  “I love you.”  

Laurent lowered his eyes, biting the inside of his mouth.  “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine, Laurent.”

“But your back-”

“Is scarred, and nothing will change that.  You can’t take it back, just like I can’t take anything else back.  And that’s  _ okay _ , because we make up for it now.  We make up for it by loving each other, and that’s exactly what you did.  Do not let my scars,  _ our _ scars, take away from this.  Because I love you, and you love me, and that’s all there is.”  He gently planted a kiss on his forehead, holding tight.

“That’s all there is,” he repeated, curling tighter into his warm husband.

His dark golden eyes stared straight into Laurent, filled with nothing but pure adoration and love.  He impulsively pressed his lips passionately against Damen’s, grabbing at his dark curls as their chests pressed together.  There was no telling where Damen ended and Laurent began, and that was how he liked it best.  

Damen pushed him back onto the towelled table, cradling his head as he brought him down, neither bothering to break the kiss.  He kissed like Laurent was his life saver, like there was nothing beyond kissing him, like the rest of their life would be filled with kisses, each one more amazing than the last.  He kissed knowing that Laurent was  _ his _ , and would always be.

Laurent kissed like there would be no tomorrow; or so Damen said.

When they broke for air, Laurent realized that Damen was still very much naked and covered in oil, while he was still very much clothed.  “You’ve gotten me all oily,” he said with a soft laugh, running his finger along Damen’s thigh as proof.  “We should get cleaned up.”

“ _ Or _ we could just get messier,” Damen enticed with a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.  “Show you my gratitude for such a lovely massage.”

“If you must,” he ceded with a smirk.

Their lovemaking was gentle, but the gentleness did not disturb their passion; rather, their care for one another enhanced the passion.  They were two bodies, two souls, meant to complete each other.  When together, they weren’t one, but they were exactly as they were meant to be, finding impossible perfection within the other.

They may bear scars, some inflicted by each other, but they will always be there to tend to the wounds long after they have scarred.


End file.
